Take Only as Directed
by Pir8grl
Summary: What a poor fic writer to do when suffering the dregs of an evil cold? Oh yeah...share it with her newest ship.
1. Chapter 1

Sara Lance threw her cards down in disgust as Leonard Snart sniveled one too many times. "That's just gross. Will you please go take something?"

"It's nothing," he replied, smothering a cough in his sleeve, then soothing his throat with a swig of booze.

Sara had no clue what was in the bottle, because she flat-out refused to touch it.

"It's a cold, and it's revolting, and we're on a space ship with a medbay that puts Star Labs to shame, so will you _**please** _ go ask Gideon for some medication before I drag you there myself?"

Snart raised an eyebrow at that. "I don't know. That sounds like it could be fun."

"I'll make sure it isn't," Sara replied sweetly.

Snart opened his mouth to retort, but instead erupted in a fit of deep, tearing coughs. He slumped wearily back against the wall, trying to catch his breath. "All right. Fine. I'll go."

"Want me to walk with you?" Sara offered, watching him wobble to his feet with none of his usual economy of motion.

"No."

Sara shrugged. "Fine. I'll check on you later."

"Whatever."

* * *

"Snart? Snart, you alive in there? Gideon, open the damn door, will you?"

"Certainly, Miss Lance."

Sara stepped cautiously inside, a little curious about Snart's living space, and a lot concerned that no one had seen him in the better part of a day. "Snart?"

A sort of snorting cough erupted from the lump sprawled on the bed, complete with boots, Sara noticed. She shook his shoulder lightly. "Snart? Leonard?"

She felt his forehead; good, his temperature seemed normal. "Gideon, what the hell did you give him?"

"A simple formula of compounds including analgesics, decongestants, expectorants, and fever reducers, combined with an anti-viral."

"And it put him into a coma?"

"No, Miss Lance. That would appear to be an unfortunate side effect of the alcohol Mr. Snart imbibed. And technically speaking, he is not in a -"

"All right. So it's a combination of med-head and a hangover?"

"That is correct, Miss Lance."

"Great," Sara muttered.

She huffed out a sigh, then tugged off Snart's boots, and arranged his lanky limbs into a more comfortable position. Sara dragged over a couple of pillows, then carefully lifted Snart's head and shoulders. His breathing relaxed as he settled into the soft support.

A small smile graced Sara's features as she carefully studied Snart's face. He really was rather good looking, when he wasn't focused on trying to steal something, or kill someone. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead - just to check his temperature, she told herself.

"This s'a really good dream," Snart slurred.

Sara chuckled softly. "Go back to sleep, Leonard."

"Head's fuzzy," he complained.

"Did no one ever tell you not to mix booze and cold meds?"

"Damn computer said to drink fluids."

"Pretty sure she meant juice or soup. Go to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up."

"Promise?"

"Yeah. I promise."

* * *

The next time his eyes opened, Snart thought for certain that he must still be dreaming. Sara Lance was stretched out beside him on his bed, all sleep-tousled golden hair, and features softened by slumber. He couldn't resist the chance to reach out and gently stroke a lock of hair back from her cheek without getting his fingers broken…and that's when it hit him - Sara's breathing was labored, and her face flushed with fever. He sighed.

"Gideon, have you got any more of that medication?"


	2. Chapter 2

Much as he adored Lisa, Leonard Snart had never been the sort to coddle anyone, yet here he was, sitting in his own bunk, with a sick and drowsy Sara Lance propped up against his chest.

"Thirsty," she mumbled.

Without a word, he reached for the hi-tech, supposedly spill-proof bottle of juice that Gideon had supplied him with. He carefully raised it to her lips so Sara could drink - it was _**his**_ bunk after all, and he didn't want to have to clean up a mess.

She swallowed, then made a face. "Got anything stronger?"

"Did no one ever tell you not to mix booze and cold meds?" he replied, parroting her earlier words.

Sara made a face that was probably meant to be menacing, but missed the mark, considering that she was currently as weak as a kitten. (He knew, having been in a similar state quite recently.)

Snart smiled softly down at the top of Sara's head, knowing she couldn't see it, but spoke in his normal snarky drawl. "Tell you what - once we're both up and about, what say we help ourselves to a bottle of the good stuff from Hunter's stash?"

"It's a date," Sara murmured, as her eyes drifted shut.


End file.
